


Brotherhood is a Two-Way Street

by Square_Pancake



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Big Brothers, Brotherly Cain, Cain is seriously unimpressed, F/M, Hank Being Awesome, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Post Beach Divorce, abelist thinking, implied medical testing, messing with timelines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2254878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Square_Pancake/pseuds/Square_Pancake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Charles Xavier killed to protect his brother, he was only eleven.  The most recent time was when he was 29.  Now it's Cain's turn to protect Charles.</p><p>"I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street."<br/>-Malcolm X</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The letter

Dear Raven,  
I am aware that the Professor has extended an open invitation for you and Erik to visit the mansion. In the five months since Cuba, he has not rescinded that offer. Knowing him as I do, I am certain that he will not even think to withdraw his hospitality. Nevertheless, I must ask that neither you nor Erik come to Westchester. 

Although we think his current treatments will fully cure the paralysis, his abilities are currently volatile. When he was in full control it was painful and difficult to abide by your request that he stifle his gift. In his current state, it would be excruciating. I cannot even imagine what close exposure to the helmet might do. Of course, Charles being who he is, I am sure he would make the attempt anyway. 

If your brother’s health is insufficient reason to stay away after you left him bleeding and paralyzed on a beach with two hostile navies and no escape, consider that he may be unable to block out your mind anyway. Thus, your privacy is saved only if you stay away.

Finally, I frankly am not certain if even Charles could keep Cain from killing you and Erik should you arrive at the mansion. 

Sincerely,  
Hank McCoy

Post Script: Cain says that he will take over protecting Charles now, since he obviously cannot trust you to do it.


	2. Erik's Not Jealous, He's Curious

News that Azazel had picked up a letter from McCoy for the first time had Erik stalking through the Brotherhood base towards Mystique’s quarters. The abandoned site in the New Mexican desert wasn’t ideal with its rather dilapidated facilities, but it was isolated enough for the various mutants to practice their abilities and escape notice from the authorities. Moreover, the scrap metal littering the desert floor allowed for Erik’s more offensive abilities should it become necessary. And most importantly in his mind, the space meant that Erik didn’t have to deal with the new recruits until they had proved useful.

Erik hadn’t liked the idea of a mail drop where McCoy could get in touch with Mystique: even with Azazel’s powers, it was not inconceivable that his movements could be tracked and then traced back to the Brotherhood.

However, rescuing Emma Frost from the CIA a week after the Cuba debacle had resulted in her offering information about Charles and the children gleaned from nearby agents. After learning what the CIA knew, Erik had agreed that they needed a way for Charles to contact the Brotherhood when he inevitably needed help.

For all that Erik was glad that Charles and the children had escaped Cuba, he was profoundly uncomfortable with Emma’s revelation that a platoon of Army Rangers had been the ones who pulled them off the beach. Even after mind-walking through several high ranking officials, Emma had no insight into how the Rangers had even known the group needed rescuing. Normally Erik would credit Charles’s abilities, and indeed that had been the explanation he accepted.

Until Emma dropped her final piece of information with a gleefully smug and blunt, “oh, and the Professor was paralyzed. That deflected bullet nicked his spinal cord.” A surge of anger  _not guilt, it wasn’t guilt_ rippled across Erik’s mind, and metal fittings around the room began to melt and deform. Emma’s smirk did little to subdue his rage, when she tossed off a final “the delay in treatment means it’s probably permanent.” Erik had seriously considered killing her at that point. If Mystique hadn’t reacted instantly by driving her knee into Emma’s stomach, he probably would have strangled the telepath.

Erik smirked at the memory, not even noticing a new recruit scurry out of his way and duck into the next door after once glance at his face. Mystique’s reaction had been so swift that Emma hadn’t been able to shift forms, and she had been left gasping on the floor while the shape shifter stalked out of the room.

With Charles’s …injuries…Erik was uncertain whether the telepath would have been able to summon help, let alone control a platoon of Army Rangers. Between the intervention of the American military and Charles’s condition, Erik was glad to have some source of information, even it was from McCoy and not Charles.

Finally reaching Mystique’s area, Erik waved open the door and stalked inside. Surprisingly, she wasn’t at the desk she had scrounged from a deserted office. Instead, Mystique was slumped in a corner, head resting on her knees with her arms wrapped around her legs. She didn’t look up when Erik entered, merely curled in tighter around her own body.

Erik paused, uncertain how to react. Perhaps she needed comforting, but that was hardly his forte unless it was insecurity about mutant abilities. Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, “Azazel said you received a letter?” At her nod, he continued, “may I read it?” Silently, and without looking up, she stretched out her arm and offered a single sheet of paper clutched in her hand.

Rather than reading immediately, Erik took over the desk chair and steeled himself for whatever the letter contained. Mystique’s unsettling reaction made him want to brace himself for the worst, but other than Charles’s death, he couldn’t think of anything that would cause Mystique’s silence. And even then, surely she’d tell him rather than let him read about it from a letter.

Shaking off the thought, Erik smoothed out the paper and began to read. He could almost feel his hackles rise as he read. For all that he was a scientist and not a writer, McCoy had a devastating turn of phrase. Lines seemed to leap off the page and root in his mind: “painful and difficult,” “stifle his gift,” “left him bleeding and paralyzed,” and “stay away.” For such a brief letter, McCoy had certainly made his opinions clear.

And yet Erik found himself asking stiffly, “who is Cain?” rather than focusing on unchangeable results of his past actions. The letter crumpled in his fist as he tensed in anticipation.

“Really, Erik? That’s what you want to know? Does it matter? We’re not welcome there anymore, and I’ve lost my brother and my home. Why the hell do you care about one more barrier between you and Charles when you already walked away,” Mystique snapped.

Letting out a breath through his nose, Erik considered the question. He really had no right to dictate who would be staying with Charles or seeing to his protection. That didn’t matter in the slightest. Right or not, Erik was not going to allow some stranger to oversee Charles’s safety. “I cannot change anything else,” he finally offered, “but I want to know who wants me dead.”

The shape-shifter snorted. “You don’t look good in green Erik.”

“I’m not jealous,” Erik retorted, “just curious.”

Sighing, Mystique finally lifted her head and let her legs straighten out in front of her. “Cain is Charles’s brother.”

“Charles doesn’t have a brother. And if he did, wouldn’t Cain be your brother as well?” In spite of himself, Erik found himself relaxing slightly into the chair’s embrace. Family was a reasonable source of protection.

“Step-brother if you really want to know; Charles was never fussy about blood when it comes to family. Cain is Charles’s brother, but he isn’t mine,” Mystique admitted. “Cain and Charles have always been close. They were brothers before I even met Charles.”

“I thought Charles was alone when you came into his life,” Erik prodded.

“No,” Mystique declared bitterly, “as long as Cain lives, Charles will never be alone.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know all the details, but let me tell you what I do know. Charles’s father died when he was young, five or so, I think,” Mystique mused. “When Charles was nine, the bitch he calls mother remarried a man named Kurt Marko. Kurt’s son Cain came with him. Cain is three years older than Charles, and apparently was excited to have a little brother. Charles was equally excited to have a big brother.”

“That doesn’t explain your assertion that ‘Charles will never be alone,’” Erik scoffed, “especially since I’ve never even seen the man before.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Mystique snapped. “I don’t know the details, since he died before I came to Westchester, but Kurt Marko was not a…kind man. Whatever he did to Cain before he married Sharon, it destroyed something inside of his son. When he met Charles, Cain was broken.”

Erik refused to allow his mind to acknowledge the parallels to his own condition when he had met the telepath.

Looking away from her leader rather than try to interpret the look on his face, Mystique continued, “Cain was broken, but so was Charles really. Being able to hear people’s thoughts that young…well, in any case, they were both broken and clung to each other. I only have suspicions, but I think Kurt got violent with at least one of them. Then one day Kurt suffered a fatal stroke. Charles was only eleven.”

Confused by the odd tone in her voice, Erik pressed, “you don’t believe it was a stroke? You think Cain killed his father?”

Mystique eyed him with pity. For all Erik’s strange obsession with her brother, he really was blind to what Charles could do when pushed. “No, Cain is just human. I think Charles killed his step-father.”

Erik felt as though he had been punched. Charles didn’t want to kill people; they had parted ways over that very issue. There was no way that he had become a killer at a younger age than Erik had. Charles was an innocent, naïve, and untouched by the darkness that pervaded Erik’s life. That belief had carried him through the last five months and the separation from his friend. Finally he wheezed out, “no, no I cannot believe that. Charles would never take a life.” _And he won’t forgive me for the lives I have and will take_ , he thought but didn’t voice.

“Oh Erik, you cannot believe that Charles is a pacifist?”

“Of course he is,” snarled Erik in response. “You saw him on that beach. He tried to stop me from taking action against the ones who tried to kill us! If not pacifism, why would he do that?”

“Really?” Mystique sputtered, “that’s what you believe?” At his glare, she continued, “Charles is a telepath – he longs for peace in a way that I have never understood. That doesn’t mean he won’t fight.”

“He said he didn’t want the same thing as I did,” Erik muttered.

“Charles doesn’t want to kill all humans. And on the beach, he didn’t want to kill sailors who just happened to be in the vicinity of people who hated us. He didn’t see the message it would have sent. Or at least didn’t value that message enough.”

It occurred to Erik that referring to Charles as his brother on that beach may have simply reminded the man of his own, human brother and made his decision that much easier.

Thoughtfully, she added, “there may have been an element of selfishness there too. Frankly I’m not sure his mind would survive close proximity to that many deaths even if they had all been guilty. That doesn’t mean he would leave the ones giving the orders unscathed. My brother won’t start a war, but he won’t sit idly by and let them kill us either.”

Erik wanted to press her, wanted to understand what he had been missing all this time, what she knew about Charles that he didn’t see or perhaps had not let himself see, but he wrenched himself away from the topic. He would talk to Charles directly. Instead, he redirected, “why do you think Charles killed, Kirk was it?”

“Kurt. Charles never said anything explicitly, but it was the way he and Cain sometimes spoke about him. And before Cain left for the Army, I overheard Charles tell him,” Mystique’s voice seemed to involuntarily mimic her brother’s British drawl, “‘I didn’t let him kill you then, I won’t let anyone kill you now.’”

Mystique shifted uneasily. The conversation had been private, but perhaps Erik needed to hear the rest of it. “The only one I can think who might have tried to kill Cain was Kurt, and Kurt died. Really the entire conversation tells you more about their relationship than I can explain.”

Erik nodded and gestured impatiently for her to continue.

 

> Taking on an unfamiliar male voice and then Charles’s voice in turn, she continued, “‘Charlie, you protected me then. I’m going to go and learn how to protect you.’
> 
> ‘You don’t need to protect me.’
> 
> ‘Yes I do. Eventually they will come for you. You are too smart and too gifted to go unnoticed. And I will be where when they come. Whether you like it or not.’”

 

Part of Erik hated that Charles’s own human brother sees the inevitability of conflict while Charles basks in his own ignorance.

 

> “And then Charles retorted, ‘I could stop you. I could make sure you never go near a war-zone.’
> 
> ‘But you won’t’
> 
> ‘No, I won’t. But I will not let you go alone either.’”
> 
> Returning to the unfamiliar voice, Raven continued her mimicry with, “‘Charlie, I am not alone, and you are not alone either. No matter how far I go, I’m with you too. You are always welcome with me.’”
> 
> Avoiding Erik’s gaze, Raven finished in her brother’s voice, “‘I know Cain, thank you. Thank you my brother.’”

Based just on the voice, Erik could imagine Charles’s unshed tears as he said his goodbyes. He wonders if Charles’s agonized face as he was cradled in Erik’s arms on the beach was just a pale shade of what he felt when Cain left.

Gathering himself, Erik forced himself to ask, “what do you think that meant?” hoping that his assumption was wrong.

Shattering his hopes, Mystique responded, “Cain was and is the only person who has never tried to shut Charles out. When Cain was in Korea, I think Charles was there more than he was in own head because he was so worried about him.”

In a slightly strangled voice, Erik sputtered, “Charles could reach to Korea from Oxford?”

“For Cain? I think Charles could reach anywhere in the world. At that time we were in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Charles was at Harvard before he went to Oxford for his PhD. The point is, Charles always maintains a connection to Cain no matter where they are. And Cain lets him.” She paused and then corrected herself, “no Cain doesn’t let him, Cain welcomes him.”

“Why did Charles never say anything?” Erik wondered just how powerful Charles really was. How powerful could he be if he stopped maintaining a connection to his human brother and put it all to use in defense of his own people.

“What would he say? ‘By the way my friend, I also keep tabs on my brother off in Asia, so don’t mind me if I’m a bit absent minded. Really, I’m just looking through his eyes at the jungles of Thailand or Cambodia or wherever he’s currently wandering.’ Though really, I think Charles doesn’t even give it a second thought. Cain is just a constant, even if no one else can see him.”

“What about you then, why didn’t you mention this brother?” _Why didn’t you warn me that someone else was so close to Charles?_ was the silent question.

Mystique sidestepped with, “I’m not really close to Cain. He wasn’t in Westchester when I met Charles. Sharon had sent him away to boarding school after Kurt died. Apparently dealing with an extra son was too tiring, but she could hardly cast the orphaned step-son off and still look good to the rest of the society ladies. I thought Charles was alone like me. And then Cain showed up and I realized that Charles didn’t really need me, no matter what he said. Even though he was physically gone most of the year, Cain was still there for Charles.”

She sighed, “Cain is not my brother. Charles is and always will be my brother, but Cain never had much interest in getting to know me. He’s normal, and I think he worried that Charles would cling to me as a fellow freak.” She snorted bitterly, “I made sure that never happened when I told Charles to stay out of my mind and kept telling him not to use his telepathy.”

Now was not the time to reflect on past mistakes. Now was also not the time to offer empty platitudes to Mystique. Carefully, Erik smoothed the letter out upon the desk’s surface, knowing he would be unable to forget the accusation- that Charles had hurt himself to please them. That he, Erik, Magneto, had demanded that another mutant suppress and not embrace his power.

“Cain is human. So why does McCoy think he can hurt us?” Rereading the letter, he quoted, “he’s ‘not certain if even Charles could keep Cain from killing you’. Does McCoy really think that some random human is going to be able to hold us off, let alone win any conflict?”

For the first time, something like humor flashed across Mystique’s face. “I have no idea what he’s thinking. As far as I know, the only thing Cain has going for him is his military training. And we both know you have a way with guns.” As soon as the words escaped her, Mystique blanched. Reminding Erik of how Charles got hurt was not a good strategy and she tensed in anticipation of his retaliation. She could see Erik’s shoulders stiffen slightly before he forced himself to relax and Mystique let the rigidity drain out of her own muscles.

Before she could sputter out an explanation, Erik interrupted firmly, “I need to meet this Cain. If we cannot go to the mansion, perhaps he can be persuaded to come to us.”

Grasping onto the topic, Mystique offered, “well, it’s easy enough to call and ask him to meet us somewhere. Washington DC is a reasonably neutral location and out of Charles’s normal range.”

In spite of himself, Erik snorted. “Normal range? For a telepath that can apparently reach Korea from Boston? Do we really know anything about what Charles can do?”

Shrugging slightly uneasily Mystique shook her head. “I never really wanted to know. But I do know that without purposefully stretching, Charles has a range of about 250 miles.” She hesitated, then stated “and I’d rather not hurt him or force him to suppress his abilities by getting any closer unless I need to.”

Part of Erik wanted to know if Mystique truly believed McCoy’s accusation. A larger part feared what confirmation would tell him. Clearly Erik didn’t know Charles as well as he thought he did if the telepath had been hurting himself without Erik even noticing.

“Perhaps it’s better if you make the call then Mystique. He at least knows you.”

“What if he says no?” Mystique asked as she rose to her feet and reached for the phone on the desk.

“Charles is not the only telepath we have. Emma may not have the same range, but I’m sure she can get close enough to persuade Cain to meet with us.”

At that, Mystique froze, her hand hovering above the telephone. “No. No. Out of the question. Did you not hear how I just said that Cain and Charles are always linked? Emma makes a move on Cain, and Charles will know.”

Erik scoffed, “does that even matter? Emma has far more experience and far less scruples than Charles. I’m confident that she would win any rematch.”

Once again Mystique was struck by how little Erik really knew or understood Charles. Her brother was a genius. Not one of the self-proclaimed prodigies who excelled in a single field, but a true once-in-a-generation wunderkind who only continued to improve. Sure, this put Charles at a disadvantage when dealing with other people and emotions rather than just ideas, but Erik should have been able to see beyond Charles’s bumbling failures in non-powered empathy to his real strengths. Even without his telepathy, Charles’s mind was unstoppable if he put all of his effort towards something. He had faced Emma once and probably now understood her abilities better than she did herself. In the past, Erik had only seen Charles with his attention divided. But an attack on Cain would bring the full might of Charles’s mind down on whoever dared make the attempt.

“You’re wrong Erik. Let me make the call and we’ll come up with a better plan than pitting Emma against someone who is far stronger than she is.”

“Why would you say that? What makes you so sure that Emma is the weaker one?” Erik was slightly annoyed at the idea that somehow the telepaths’ abilities had been compared without his knowledge.

“Do you know why Charles was so insistent on me keeping my fake form up when people could see me?”

Mouth tightening in anger, Erik responded, “yes, he wanted you to be normal. To be average. To be human.”

Mystique leaned against the desk and crossed her arms defensively against her chest. “I used to believe that, and I still do to some extent. It’s not the only reason though. I slipped up a fair amount when I was younger, in places where it wasn’t safe to be anything but human. Charles had to monitor everyone around when I was outside to make sure no one saw me shift. I always thought it was a simple chore, not worth getting so worked up over.

Then I asked Emma about covering for me in public if I slipped and was in danger. As I said, Charles used to that for me all the time. Emma said that I was asking too much- that she couldn’t track an entire crowd and that I just needed to get better at keeping my form stable when under stress.”

Shaking her head a bit in self-deprecation, she said, “I underestimated what Charles was doing for me and how hard it was. Once in London he froze an entire club’s worth of people, rewrote their memories and got us out unobserved.” Mystique smirked at the memory and continued, “Emma didn’t believe me. She said it was impossible. I don’t know if Charles is just stronger, but I do know he can do things that Emma cannot. And to protect Cain, he’d pull out all the stops.”

In the silence that followed that pronouncement, Erik simply gestured towards the phone in invitation. There was no point in making up a backup plan unless their initial call didn’t work.

Uncrossing her arms, Mystique picked up the phone and punched in the number for the place she still thought of as home.

Meanwhile, Erik pulled out a notebook and pen from the desk drawers and handed them over in case Mystique needed to take notes. After what seemed like an endless wait, Erik could faintly hear a voice from the phone’s speaker, though it was too quiet to distinguish any words. Instead he focused on Mystique’s side of the conversation.

“Yes, I’m calling for Hank McCoy?”

“No, I don’t think he’s expecting a call from me.”

“My name is Raven Darkholme. I’m a friend.”

After a much lengthier pause, during which Mystique began to doodle absently in the notebook, Erik heard what sounded like a much louder voice from the speaker.

“Cain.” It was a statement and not a question, piquing Erik’s interest.

“I’d like to meet with you to discuss the mansion’s defenses,” Mystique started.

A lengthy pause filled with the muffled roar of what sounded like a very angry response.

“That’s enough! I’m not an enemy Cain, and whether you like it or not, Charles is my brother too. I thought you might want insights from a couple of mutants to make sure you’re covering your bases. Look, I know I can’t come to the mansion, but can we meet somewhere?”

“No, New York City doesn’t work- it’s far too close, and Hank said that it would hurt Charles.”

The murmuring started from the speaker again, but this time Erik distinctly caught the words “not like you care,” in a deep rumble.

“Whatever Cain. I don’t care if you believe me. We should still meet. I don’t trust the phone lines for this conversation.”

“I think Washington DC is the best option. Pick a location and time and have Hank send it- our guy will pick it up.”

“Goodby- wait, what? Hank thought you would kill him. Well, no promises, but I’ll ask him to be there. Goodbye Cain.”

After watching her hang up the phone and pinch the bridge of her nose, Erik finally interrupted Mystique’s contemplative silence. “So he agreed to a meeting?”

“Yes, and he wants you there.”

Erik was confused by the decidedly unenthusiastic response. “Isn’t that a good thing? I was going to be there anyway.”

Mystique frowned, “there’s something wrong. Cain sounded far too confident. He must know what you can do, and that you hate humans, but he still wanted you there.”

Erik shrugged, “I’ll be prepared. I’m not worried about some random human as a threat, no matter how highly Charles thinks of him.”

Even while nodding in agreement, Mystique wondered whether putting themselves within Cain’s reach was a wise move. She’d have to make sure Azazel stayed close by during the meeting, just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source for the Title:  
> "I believe in the brotherhood of all men, but I don't believe in wasting brotherhood on anyone who doesn't want to practice it with me. Brotherhood is a two-way street."  
> -Malcolm X


	3. Arson is Therapeutic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brotherhood keeps busy while waiting for Hank's response.

Erik wanted to pause everything until they heard back from Hank. He wanted to direct all his attention and planning to the upcoming meeting with Cain. Erik was not even sure what his goal for the meeting was; surely it will be clear after meeting the brother that is so central to Charles’s life…the brother he never mentioned.

But even if Erik wanted to pause, Magneto had other responsibilities. Thus far their recruits were mostly those with visible, physical mutations who had somehow gotten on either the CIA’s or Schmidt’s radars. Magneto was not certain how effective all of them will be, but for now at least they are safe and training.

Far more troubling than CIA surveillance on mutants were the hints of other, even more secretive groups having an interest in the CIA’s findings. The files only hinted at who else might be interested, with notations that some files were to be forwarded to different branches. Still, without more information, those other organizations remained a shadowy threat rather than a pressing issue.

Information gleaned from the CIA in combination with Shaw’s liberated files pointed the Brotherhood to a small facility in rural Pennsylvania. From what that could interpret, the isolated site had four bunkers disguised as dairy barns, and based on deliveries, inside the bunkers were at least some medical testing equipment. Shaw’s notes pointed to several mutants, maybe even as many as a dozen, being held as test subjects.

Even after reviewing the files, Erik wasn’t sure whether Shaw had a hand in creating the lab. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Because if Shaw had been testing and experimenting on mutants all these years, then all Erik can think is that he didn’t find and kill Shaw nearly soon enough.

The information about the site was minimal. They knew the location, that it was mostly isolated, and that it was guarded. Attempts to scout would be difficult with their current skillset unless they sent in Mystique; and given what they knew, long-term reconnaissance would just lead to more mutants dying under scalpels.

Magneto was really more in the mood to kill people anyway.

They decided to attack early in the morning. There had been discussions about attacking at night, but only Azazel and Mystique had improved-beyond-baseline night vision, so the advantages would be minimal. Attacking at dawn would still give them the element of surprise, and hopefully sleepy defenders.

 

* * *

 

In the end the attacking force was small: Magneto, Angel, Mystique and Azazel make the trip. Magneto alone was a siege weapon against a system of metal bunkers, and an army against mere humans, but he knew his power is either brute force or scalpel, and both will be needed simultaneously in multiple buildings if they wanted to keep any prisoners alive.

Two days after Mystique was blindsided by the letter from Hank, the Brotherhood gathered at dawn to attack and to rescue. With a scent of sulfur burning in their noses and the feel of reality billowing away, the four appeared in a field in Pennsylvania, far away from the still-dim New Mexican desert.

 

The first thing all four noticed was the group of a fourteen humans sitting down in front of the ruins of one dairy barn. Based on the intel, the ruined building is the barracks rather than the lab. Erik doesn’t want to admit it, but the silence is unnerving. The group doesn’t even seem to be talking amongst themselves, nor do they call out a greeting to the suddenly appearing mutants.

As they moved closer, it became clear that the humans were some form of security force; a defeated security force at that, what with them sitting unarmed with their hands uniformly behind their backs. Garbed all in black, they have obviously empty gun holsters and knife sheathes strapped to their legs. Reaching out with his ability, Magneto found that the only significant metal on the men was the zippers on their uniforms and the handcuffs on their wrists.

Calmly striding towards the group, Magneto tried to figure out what happened here. At the movement, the apparent commander seemed to notice them. A cheerful, almost manic smile split his face as he called out, “hello there, are you the police?” Magneto pauses, and glances down at himself.

Yes, he was still wearing body armor, a cape and a metal helmet. There was nothing about him that suggested that he in any way represented the police or other law enforcement organization.

“No.”

The man immediately drooped. “Oh, sorry, we have to wait for the police.”

“You have to wait for the police?” inquired Erik dryly, trying to cover his unease.

“Oh yes, we have to wait for the police and then I’ve decided to confess.” Immediately a chorus of “me too!” and “I need to confess” filled the air.

“Right. And what are you confessing to exactly?”

The man frowned; then he brightened and asked again, “oh, are you the police?” At a loss, Erik tried to find the right words to express the weirdness of this situation.

Stepping forward, Mystique inserted herself into the conversation. “Yes, yes we are the police.” Erik noticed that she didn’t bother changing from her natural blue and scaly form. In fact, when he examined her face more closely, she looked both exasperated and resigned.

“Oh good. I’ve been party to kidnapping, human trafficking, unethical experimentation, violations of building codes, and a number of other crimes. The first three are probably the most important though. Don’t worry, I can explain everything.”

Sighing, Mystique asked, “and how long will this confession continue?”

“Oh, I’ll confess until I get what I deserve as punishment for my crimes,” the man exclaimed happily. Again, a choral agreement rang out from the other men. Mystique only nodded, clearly expecting this answer or something similar.

“Well, it seems as though we were not the first ones here. Shall we go see what Charles has left us?”

“Your brother did this?” demanded Angel incredulously. “The stodgy, ‘give humans a chance’ professor mind-whammied these cats?”

“Obviously,” Mystique drawled. “Unless you have a better explanation for this, I’m going to assume that my brother determined that these particular humans had a chance, and used it up. And now he wants other humans to punish them.”

“You’ve seen this before,” noted Azazel. He looked impressed and a bit sadistically gleeful at the thought, his tail whipping furiously through the air.

Mystique nodded then said, “Well, I’ve never anyone quite so loopy after Charles worked on them, but yeah, I’ve seen something similar.” Before Azazel can ask further, she continues, “Look, it’s really none of your business- just add it to your list of things Charles can do. For now, let’s just see what else is here and if they missed anything.”

The barracks building had clearly been torn open, and Erik wonders if McCoy’s strength had increased, or Sean’s screams improved their destructive force. In any case, the building had been cracked open like an egg, with gear and bunks scattered across the wreckage.

Although their original plan of attack had involved separating the group, it seemed a bit pointless now. Instead, the quartet approached the nearest bunker together. Erik isn’t surprised when he sees that the doors have been blown open, the edges melted. Clearly Alex’s work.

Jerking his head to the side, Erik indicated that they should circle the buildings. The second building has also been broken open: instead of doors, there is only a hole. Moving closer, Erik gently touched the ragged edges of the opening. The smell of motor oil filled the air. Out loud, Magneto notes, “this looks like a C4 explosion to me. McCoy’s work?”

Frowning, Mystique drew closer. “Maybe, I assume that he knows how to make and use explosives. Or maybe they’ve picked up a new mutant.”

Even though he had intended to examine the third building first, Erik stepped into the bunker. He could feel the metal of the building humming around him. Unlike the open space of the barracks, Erik could sense the subdivisions in this building, and a room filled with what feels like electronics. After so much time in Schmidt’s clutches, Erik knew the resonance of medical equipment. He could practically feel the cold metal of the exam table on his own back as the impression filtered through the other imprints.

Gathering his resolve, Magneto led his group further into the building. He immediately turned down a hall and moved towards the lab he could feel. To his surprise, he almost tripped over a body. Frowning, Erik berated himself for his carelessness and crouched down next to the corpse. It’s a white male, and clearly dressed in the same manner as the prisoners outside.

“He was shot,” Erik blurted in surprise. “Three shots, all to the center of his chest, looks like from a sidearm. No apparent medical attention rendered.” Focusing, he spread his hand above the body, trying hard not to think of the last time he had felt for bullets inside a person. A moment’s work confirmed that there were three bullets imbedded in the man.

Straightening, Magneto strode forward and towards the lab, with the other three mutants following him. They passed by two more bodies, and a cursory glance showed that both had also been shot. Finally, Magneto could feel the lab table directly in front of him. Pushing open the doors, he marched into a lab that could have been taken out of his nightmares.

A metal table sat in the middle of the room. There are leather restraints riveted all along the edges of the table. It’s not hard to see how a person could be strapped down, immobilized, crucified for some twisted human’s idea of science. He’s sure that there was more in the room, but the table filled his vision. Instinctively, Magneto threw his power outwards and crushed it to the floor, the leather strapped tangled in the remains of the metal. He ignored the murmuring he could hear from his subordinates behind him.

When his vision cleared, Magneto took in the other details of the lab. Clenching down on his rage, he noted the blood stains on the floor, the scalpels and bone saws spread out across a lab bench like modern torture implements. And he saw the body. To his intense satisfaction, this one was wearing a lab coat when he died.

Toeing the body straight, Erik is surprised to note that this one was shot not in the chest, but through the forehead. A single wound pierced just above his left eye in a clear kill shot. A scalpel, still bloody, was clutched in his right hand.

Stepping back, Erik tried to recreate the scene verbally. “They blast open the main door. The first guard rushes out, gets shot. Two more follow behind and also get shot. Either the scientist doesn’t hear the commotion, too caught up in his work, or the intruder used a suppressor on his pistol.”

“A suppressor?” interrupts Angel uncertainly. Glancing up, Erik is unsurprised to see the anger in her face as she examines the equipment.

“Americans have a different word for it. It makes a gunshot quiet.”

“Oh, a silencer,” Angel offers.

“Fine. So the intruder may have used a _silencer_. As he enters the lab, he sees the doctor. Since the scalpel still has blood on it, there was probably another person in here: a mutant being experimented on. Rather than chest shots like the other three, this one gets it straight in his head. Then he leaves with the mutant and leaves the corpses behind.”

The other three nod in agreement, but Erik noticed Azazel furrowing his brow. “See something I missed?”

“Whoever shot these men had good aim. All died with no fighting back, and all the shots were to vital areas, da?”

“Yes.”

“That means whoever shot them knows how to use a gun and uses it well.”

Impatiently, Erik agreed again.

“So based on everything Mystique has told me about ‘Hank,’ he would not leave his lab to learn a gun well enough to do this.”

In spite of the grim surroundings, Mystique smirked. “Maybe Charles found another person who could move bullets. I don’t think any of the ones at the mansion would carry a gun.” Thoughtfully she added, “though, I really ought to learn how to use one. I can’t really shapeshift as an offensive action.”

Frowning in irritation at the idea of Charles having some sort of _replacement_ for him, Magneto countered, “or it was Moira. She is certainly willing to shoot mutants, though I wonder if she had the stomach to shoot her fellow humans.”

“Didn’t the CIA files Azazel picked up show that she had forgotten the months that she knew about mutants?” muttered Angel uneasily.  “I don’t like the idea that she was just faking that. What if she went back to them and gave up information about us?”

“No,” Mystique disagreed. “I’m pretty sure that Moira really had her memory erased. I think this may have been Cain.”

“Who the fuck is Cain?” asked Angel.

“Charles’s brother,” Mystique responds immediately, and then hushes at the fierce glare Magneto directs her way.

“Never mind that,” Magneto frowned, “and yes, I can see it. Marko has a military background. You said he fought in Korea, right Mystique?”

“Yes, he was part of the Eighth Army Ranger Company according to Charles’s babbling.”

Something about that statement set off bells in the back of his head, but Erik could not put his finger on whatever idea escaped him now.

Four deaths just in this building; Erik was not convinced that Charles would have been party to this- maybe he was just too busy subduing the men outside to stop the group from killing people. But he’ll think more about it later, for now he has to get more information.

“Azazel, Angel, check for files. I want to see who they were torturing and how much they know. And I don’t want to leave anything here for police to find.” As Azazel and Angel moved towards the desk pushed up against the far wall, Erik circles the perimeter of the room to wall opposite from the horrific lab bench.

Against the walls, large computer systems were quiet. Frowning, Magneto debated whether he should destroy the systems, or try to salvage any information. The mainframes were large, and frankly without Hank or Charles, they had little hope of interpreting any data they could recover. Instead, he rests his hands against the nearest computer and pulses out with his power. The sparks that trace across the bank of computers were gratifying as Erik thought of all the information being destroyed: work that can never be used against his people.

Glancing up, Magneto noted that both Azazel and Angel were frowning and empty handed. As he moved closer, he could see the reason.

A slender rubber hose had been run from a sink in the corner and propped in the desk drawer. On the floor underneath the desk was a box filled with piles of folders, probably everything that had been left in the lab. Based on the still dripping paperwork and the diluted ink pooling under the box, it seemed as though the water had been running until just recently. In hindsight, Magneto wondered if the computers had also been destroyed in a way he didn’t recognize.

“Well if it was Charles, at least they were smart enough to destroy the records,” said Mystique. “Still, we should make sure. Angel, want to take care of this?” Smiling, the winged mutant spat at the records, covering the wet papers with corrosive saliva.

Nodding, Erik simply said, “let’s check out the final building, then we will investigate the interior of the one that Alex blasted open.”

As they trekked out, Angel paused, looking at the floor. “Hey, anyone think there is a lot of mud for a single person?”

“Well, the four of us just came in as well,” dismissed Erik, “even if our feet weren’t muddy, we spread anything that was already on the floor.” Angel didn’t look convinced, but she let the matter drop.

 

The final building was a bit unusual. The main door was still closed; it wasn’t until the quartet had circled to the far side that they saw where the attackers had entered the building. The metal wall protruded inwards, bent around a hole just large enough for a man to walk through.

Azazel noted, “it looks as though someone just ran right through the wall.”

“Unless he’s gained a lot more than we thought, McCoy didn’t do this,” said Erik.

“We already knew Charles was going to look for more mutants- apparently he found one with like, super-strength or something,” shrugged Angel.

 

As a group they gingerly entered the building through the hole. The destruction continued on in a straight line, breaking through internal walls and apparently stopping at yet another lab. This time there were only corpses in lab coats and no soldiers. One doctor was sprawled out across his own lab table, his throat clearly crushed. Five more appeared to have died similarly, and then lined up against the wall.

Unlike the vivisection room, the examination table has no restraints; of greater interest is the large glass tank. Large enough to hold a person, there is a locking grate across the top, just under the apparent waterline. There is a large circular impact point- Erik had the sneaking suspicion that one of the now dead doctors was thrown bodily against the thick glass. There are spider web cracks along the front, the water seeped slowly down the face of the tank to puddle on the floor.

The rest of the lab is a chaotic mess. There are several more impact points on the other walls, and it appears that the computers were physically ripped out of the wall and thrown into the desk, electronic guts scattered across the floor. There was no telling whether anyone other than the doctors were in this room when the rescuer plowed through the walls.

Erik smirked to himself, “I don’t know him, but I like whoever did this. Is there any better metaphor for our future as mutants than an unstoppable force?”

Under her breath, Angel mutters to Mystique that it could have been a woman, but otherwise nods in agreement before repeating her corrosive treatment on any visible papers.

“Let’s examine the final building. We still haven’t found where they were actually keeping the mutants here. Other than the blood in the first lab, there is no sign that anyone was rescued,” called Erik as he exited the room.

 

 

The melted entrance of the first building gave way to a small antechamber before another door opened to large room filled with a half dozen cages. Each cage had an IV stand next to it, the tubing and needles now ripped out of the prisoners who had probably been drugged into lethargy. The doors swung free on each of them; the locks were melted, or shattered, suggesting multiple rescuers. One cage, however, had its IV stand wedged between bent bars as though someone inside of the cage had used the metal instrument to pry open the cage. A closer examination showed the cage bottom littered with both blood and bullets.

In addition to the horror of the cages, the final building was not as empty of enemies as the other two. Surprisingly, the corpses of the guards inside did not show signs of being fatally hit by Alex’s energy blasts. Instead, all of them appeared to have been stabbed- some through the neck, some with great slashes across the chest, but most sporting a trio of wounds through the chest.

“Thoughts?” asked Magneto.

“The boys bust in, Alex melting the doors open. Then they kill the guards and take the prisoners,” replied Angel.

“And the bodies,” added Mystique, gesturing at the cage filled with bullets.

“Just because there is blood and bullets, does not mean whoever was in there died,” corrected Azazel. “Emma does not bleed, but if she were in her diamond body, bullets would not have hurt her. Maybe this one is the same. He wakes from whatever drug they used, immediately tries to escape. He ignores the bullets, and then he kills the guards.”

“If the sound of Alex opening the door woke him, then they would have entered this section just in time to watch someone else to do the dirty work,” agreed Magneto, secretly pleased with the idea that young men he knew would be spared having to kill for a time.

 

“So, to sum up: Charles or some other group with someone who can mind-whammy a bunch of soldiers show up. Alex, or someone with similar powers, helps free the mutants along with someone who likes to stab people,” started Mystique.

Angel continued the summation, “another person, though I still think there was more than one, maybe that Cain guy, uses explosives and guns to open up and free someone from the lab. Some soldiers die and so does a doctor, scalpel still in hand. Finally, someone with super strength ran straight through the third building and crushed the throats of six doctors before tearing up the room.”

Nodding, Erik finished with, “afterwards, they take whatever mutants were here and leave the survivors cuffed together outside.” Frowning, he added, “you know, I’m disappointed they didn’t leave us anyone to kill.”

“We could kill the soldiers outside,” offered Azazel. “It would not be very sporting, but they _are_ alive.”

Erik seriously contemplated the idea before shaking his head no. “If they are going to confess to kidnapping and medical experiments, I want to make sure they won’t say anything about mutants. If Charles was careful, then they can go to prison for what they did. And if anyone held here wants revenge later, then at least they will know where to find their targets,” he mused.

Mystique carefully kept herself from sighing or pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation at Erik’s reasoning.

“Azazel, go get Emma, we will have her check out the prisoners, and then we will burn down the buildings. We could do a search of the entire buildings, but with no mutants here I don’t care to take the time. No reason to leave anything for anyone to salvage.”

Smirking, the teleporter disappeared with a muffled pop as Erik angrily paced. Now that the possibility of action had faded, Erik found himself furious with Charles. The actions undertaken were clearly violent, and even if a prisoner killed the guards near the cages, someone Charles brought with him intentionally killed guards and scientists. _How is this any different from what I wanted?_ He demanded internally before jerking around to face Mystique.

“Why is Charles okay with this? Just…I don’t…” unable to find the right words, he balled his hands into fists and turned away. Angel awkwardly retreated to lean against the nearest building rather than get caught in the duo’s obsession with the missing Xavier.

“Erik, a rescue mission during which some people die is a bit different than saying all humans need to die for us to be safe,” said Mystique. “Charles thinks these people are the abnormality, when we all know that most humans would react like this: they would fear us, cut us up, and use us as lab rats.”

Without looking back, Magneto nodded in agreement. “Yes, Charles is terribly idealistic that way. For a mind reader, he really does not understand people.” Internally, Magneto reassured himself that Charles would never bend to accept the truth, their split was inevitable.

Before Mystique could add her view, another puff of smoke coalesced into the familiar figures of Emma and Azazel.

“Azazel said you wanted me to check out someone Xavier worked on?” Emma asked as she efficiently strode towards the men still patiently sitting in wait for the police. Her gait was surprisingly steady considering the height of her heels and the relatively uneven ground.

Emma reached out and ran her hand along the temple of the closest guard. She stayed stooped for a moment before straightening and bursting into laughter. “Your little telepath friend has a nastier streak than I expected.”

“How so?”

“Well, based on this man’s mind, Xavier erased the ability for these men to think about mutants.”

“What the fuck?” yelped Angel.

“Any time they try to think about super human abilities, their mind will substitute other explanations. Azazel, he thinks your devil costume is very impressive.” Emma ignored the red mutant’s muffled snort and explained, “It’s well done. It might wear off eventually, but I doubt it. Humans don’t want to believe in anything that they don’t understand.”

“Obviously,” muttered Mystique.

“For now, they won’t register anything until they have confessed their sins to the proper authorities. Then they will be a bit more normal…though they will never stop admitting to any crime they have ever committed” said Emma. “I especially like that last bit. Who knows what Xavier considers a crime- probably a standard far beyond what these men will be able to live up to.”

At that thought, the last of Erik’s bloodlust dissipated. Leaving the men alive would really be the best punishment. And it would last a lifetime.

“If that’s all, I would like to return to the base after I make sure the rest of these men are the same, I was in the middle of reading a new novel when Azazel popped in,” declared Emma airily.

As they waited for confirmation, Erik mused that he had even more questions for when he met Marko- not the least of which was how Charles had found out about this place. At the very least, they had more information about the opposition, so it was not an entirely wasted trip. Plus as soon as Emma finished, he would be able to set those buildings on fire, and arson was always therapeutic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should have the meeting between Erik and a very protective older brother.


	4. Rangers Lead the Way (aka Listen to Cain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cain meets with Erik. He is not impressed with Erik, but Cain does make an impression.

Erik wondered if he would have been so willing to communicate with Charles, even if only through his brother as a proxy, if it weren’t for Hank’s revelation in his original letter. That ‘ _we think his current treatments will fully cure the paralysis.’_ Though curious about what treatments Hank had discovered or developed, Erik really felt more relief than anything else.

 

Truthfully, after Emma’s original revelation of Charles’s injury, Erik had fought against the opposing urges to see that Charles was alive with his own eyes and to avoid his friend and the visible consequences of Erik’s failures.  It was entirely possible that Erik would have managed to avoid seeing Charles in person for years if he put some effort into it, and frankly, Erik had thought it would be preferable.  He didn’t need the distraction from the cause; Charles in a wheelchair would only play on his guilt, and Erik couldn’t afford to dwell on guilt when it might cause him to hesitate instead of act.

 

Erik also didn’t want to face the possibility of being blamed by Charles yet again.  Bad enough on the beach when tempers were high and Charles was bleeding in the sand.  Having the man look him in the eyes while calm and confirming that Erik caused Charles’s suffering already haunted his dreams, he had no need to experience it in person.

 

But reading between the lines, Charles was no longer bound to a wheelchair, even if he was still in recovery.  Erik could handle that, could even handle Charles blaming him if Erik knew Charles could recover to the same dynamic, spontaneous, uninhibited man he knew: not grounded by his body with only his mind soaring free.

 

He missed the camaraderie of their recruitment trip and desperate training before confronting Shaw.  Azazel and Janos were too used to following a megalomaniac to treat Erik as an equal.  Emma was caught between ineffective attempts to seduce him and manipulate him in turn, trying to secure her place in the new hierarchy in the only way Shaw had allowed.  Mystique came closer to treating him as a friend, but there was always a barrier between the, with her following his orders and looking to him for reassurance.  Of course, now that Azazel and Mystique were getting closer, the teleporter may well take on the later part, much to Erik’s relief.  For all that they shared a kiss and Erik appreciated her incredible physical mutation, he could do without her turning up naked in his bed.

 

Frankly, between Emma and Mystique, Erik was glad that his tastes ran in different directions, not that he had the time for a relationship outside leading the Brotherhood.  Choosing a partner between the two would be a surefire way to disrupt the entire organization.  Neither took rejection well, and rejection in favor of another woman would be intolerable to Emma because of her pride, and to Mystique because of her youthful insecurities.

 

Angel he didn’t trust.  While he never made it overt, Angel’s defection _to_ Shaw meant that he couldn’t rely on her to do anything but stay with the strongest party.  So long as Erik held the power, she’d be leashed, but he couldn’t trust her with anything an opponent might use against him.  Besides, philosophical discussions over chess were not to Angel’s taste.

 

The new recruits were out of the question, at least until one of them could disagree to his face or even offer a greeting without cowering.

 

Meeting with Cain was just one step towards seeing Charles again. Erik mentally reviewed his plans for the meeting.  He had seen the mansion, but at the time, secrecy was its own security.  Now, especially with Charles taking in more children, they would need more proactive defenses.  Idly, he wondered if he could convince Charles to seed the ground with metal in case he needed to help protect the school.  If attacked, surely Erik and the Brotherhood with their teleporter and experienced fighters would be among those Charles called for aid.

 

Even if Charles refused non-traditional recommendations, Erik at least had extensive experience in breaking into well defended locations and homes- Charles could use his unique insight.

 

Outside security issues, Erik hoped that Cain would be able to shed some light on the Pennsylvania lab site.  Mystique was certain that her brother was involved, and Emma was convinced Charles had the telepathic ability, not to mention the melted metal indicating Alex’s presence, but the dead scientists brought Erik up short. Erik wanted confirmation.

 

* * *

 

 

It was another week before Mystique received any information from Hank.

 

The meeting place was surprisingly isolated for still being in Washington DC.  Erik mentally acknowledged that even politicians have to eat real food occasionally rather than just sucking blood from the average citizen, so warehouses were a bit inevitable in a metropolitan area.  He was impressed, however, that either McCoy or the mysterious Cain managed to find a warehouse mostly built out of concrete rather than metal.  He could of course feel the rebar inside the walls, but the building itself was not a weapon the way most would be.

 

Still, he approved of the location.  Azazel’s teleportation went completely unnoticed, and after looking around at the empty lot, Erik had no hesitation in sending him back for Emma and Mystique.  

 

He shouldn’t have taken so much pleasure in Emma’s curled lip of distaste, but Erik was still rather annoyed at the telepath.  Her aggressive seduction attempts had yet to stop, and Erik had the sneaking suspicion that she only continued in order to annoy him rather than out of a belief that he’d tumble into her bed. So bringing Emma to the sultry heat of the Beltway while she was clad in stiflingly skintight white leather was only fitting recompense to Erik.

 

Frowning, Emma tilted her head.  “The only mind nearby is a male inside.  Without going in deep, I can’t get much off him- his mind is odd, and angry, but doesn’t have the feel of a mutant.  Want me to look deeper and see why?”

 

“No, that’s probably just Charles's influence,” insisted Mystique even as Erik made a considering noise.  Finally, he admitted, “no reason to start antagonistically.  Even if he’s a human, our fellow mutants sent him.  You may leave.  Azazel, please listen for us. I’m not sure how long this will take.”

 

Erik was a bit mystified at the current state of affairs.  For all that he had no _intention_ of harming Charles’s brother, it seemed a bit reckless to send a single human against one or more mutants who already demonstrated their antipathy for humans.   Surely Charles could not be counting on his shattered friendship or tattered familial ties to protect his brother.  Because if Cain acted against him, Erik had no qualms about defending himself with lethal force.  For the first time, Erik found himself wondering if Charles even knew about the imminent meeting.

 

Scowling at the realization that he was stalling, Erik strode into the building with Mystique at his heels.

 

Erik could not feel the hum of electricity through the building’s wiring, a skill he had recently taken to developing, so the darkness inside was unsurprising. The interior of the building was empty, without boxes or subdivisions in the space, and their footsteps echoed on the concrete floor. The light slanting in through the windows threw the corners of the building into deep shadow, presumably concealing the man they were there to meet. Scanning the shadows, Erik tried to pierce the gloom without stepping more than a few feet into the open space

 

“I thought about killing you as you walked in,” murmured an almost inhumanly deep voice. Tensing, Erik tried to pinpoint the origin of the sound as the man, presumably Cain, continued to rumble, “I spent the last few days arranging for Charlie to be far too busy with Logan to pay close attention to anything I was doing.”

 

Erik refrained from asking about the unknown Logan and exactly how he was occupying Charles’s time as he moved further into the empty room, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom.

 

“I’m not sure I’ll get a better chance and I desperately want to kill you to make sure that you cannot hurt my brother again,” the voice was saturated with tightly controlled rage. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up to your brother’s screams and know that he’s half a world away? That there is no way you can reach him in time to help? He was so enmeshed in that Nazi’s mind that I thought the coin was going through Charlie.  I thought I was feeling my brother die.”

 

“No, no, Charles would have told me if he felt that,” Erik protested blankly, wondering how much pain Charles was in even before the bullet.

 

“I could hear him screaming in Cambodia.  If you couldn’t hear him, it’s because you chose not to listen,” accused Cain.

 

“It was necessary…” Erik started, but Cain interrupted almost immediately.

 

“No, it wasn’t. You forget that I know Charlie and I know violence. You could have told Charlie the truth: that you were going to kill Shaw and he couldn’t change your mind. But you wanted revenge, not justice, so you didn’t argue the point with him.”

 

Erik knew why he hadn’t told Charles. It would have just cemented Erik’s status as a monster, and he had wanted to enjoy Charles’s friendship as long as possible.

 

Erik’s internal musing did not stop Cain’s explanations from the shadows, “Charlie could have put Shaw to sleep and you could have killed him without making my brother such an intimate part of your little revenge scheme, but no, you wanted to see Shaw suffer and made my brother suffer too.  And I’d really like to pass the experience back to you.”

 

In spite of the ache of guilt at Cain’s accusations, Erik felt his mouth curve into a smirk.  “I’m not exactly afraid of you, Marko,” Erik drawled as he fingered one of the knives hanging from his belt.  “I doubt you could even touch me before I stopped you.”

 

A sudden blur of movement was the only warning.  Moving far faster than what should be humanly possible, a massive man emerged from the far corner, crossed the floor in an instant, easily evaded Mystique, and shoved Erik several feet back against the wall.

 

With his right hand firmly wrapped around Erik’s neck, Cain slid him up against the rough grey concrete until Erik’s feet dangled in the air. Erik’s left hand instinctively wrapped around Marko’s wrist to provide leverage while his right tried to wrench open the choking grip by prying Marko’s thumb back using his hand as a fulcrum.  There was no give, not even an indication that Cain registered the struggle.

 

Then, before Erik could reach out to the metal around him, before he could even process how swiftly Marko had captured him, Cain’s left hand slammed into the wall next to Erik’s head. As soon as the blow hit, the grip loosened slightly and Erik sucked in a desperate gasp of air.

 

“As I said, I gave serious thought to killing you.” At that, Cain released Erik entirely, and the mutant slid to the filthy floor, his legs splayed out in front of him, his neck and back already bruising.

 

“Charles would never forgive you” Mystique interjected, slowly approaching Cain, hand reaching out in supplication.

 

“We both know that’s not true,” Cain disagreed.  “Charlie would forgive me because he would know exactly why I killed him.  This creep is a possibly lethal threat to Charlie and that is a good enough reason for me to eliminate him. Charlie understands what it means to protect family, and I have the power to do it.”  As this, Cain gestured above Erik’s head.

 

Twisting to get a better angle, Erik saw dark shards jutting from the concrete wall where Marko had struck. Frowning, Erik staggered to his feet to inspect the damage. Shiny black fragments radiated out from a single impact point. Reaching up, Erik ran a careful finger along one shard and immediately sliced his finger open. Erik found himself asking, “what did this?”

 

“Obsidian blade. Fragile but sharp enough to do the job, and of course no metal for you to grab. Took me a bit to track them down, but I can assure you that I have more, and other options as well. As I said, I seriously considered taking you out.”

 

“So why don’t you?” spat Erik. In spite of himself, he was impressed, not only by Marko’s instinct to eliminate a potential threat, but also by the clear planning that had gone into facing Magneto as an opponent.

 

“Because I am a better man than that.”  Erik felt his gut twisting at the assertion. To have those words thrown at him by a human was galling, but he couldn’t deny that he had been at Cain’s mercy. Had Marko aimed for Magneto’s throat, he wouldn’t have survived.

 

“I just wanted it to be clear that right here, right now, I could have killed you, and if you become an active rather than a passive threat, I will end you just as easily.  Charlie is mine to protect, mine to care for. I don’t care about anything you’ve told yourself, Charlie is _my_ brother.”  Cain turned as though he was going to walk away entirely now that he had said his piece.

 

As he backed away, Erik for the first time took in the sheer size of the man.  At least 6’6”, Marko was built large, a mountain of a man dressed in black cargo pants and a tight dark grey t-shirt. His dark blond hair was cropped close to his skin and his brown eyes seemed to gleam with a red sheen in the low light of the warehouse.

 

If Emma hadn’t already confirmed that he was human, Erik would be convinced Marko had a physical mutation based simply on his appearance.  Not to mention his speed and apparent strength as he slammed Erik against the wall.

 

“You wouldn’t have met with us just to show off or threaten us. Why did you really come?” asked Mystique.

 

Cain’s chuckle sounded more like rocks grinding together than something produced by a human throat.  “Raven, you really underestimate me if you don’t think I’d travel this far just for the opportunity to kick Lehnsherr’s ass.”

 

“I prefer Mystique, and he’s Magneto,” Mystique corrected automatically.

 

No telepathy was necessary to sense Cain’s amused disbelief in that moment, the silence stretching until the deep voice acknowledged, “Mystique then.”

 

“Really?  You’ll call me Mystique?” she asked.

 

Erik supposed he shouldn’t be amused at the surprise on Mystique’s face.  He knew the pair had at best a distantly cordial relationship, and after the events in Cuba, Erik figured she was probably amazed that Cain was willing to call her by her chosen name.

 

And then Cain said, “You know, there was a guy in my platoon back in Korea- he had a son, he was like 5.  He preferred to be called ‘T-rex the Groovy’ instead of Wade, and I went along with that. So if you want to be Mystique and Magneto, I’ll do my best.” Mystique’s narrowing eyes and curling lip didn’t surprise Erik, but her refusal to rise to the taunt did.

 

Silence greeted the pronouncement, and then Cain went on, “Anyway, you’re wrong. I would have happily traveled all this way just to threaten your boyfriend, but you’re also right, there is something else I’d like to discuss.”

 

Mystique spluttered a denial and Erik groaned and tried not to think too hard about why he immediately corrected Marko’s assumptions by saying, “I’m not dating, sleeping with or otherwise involved romantically with Mystique.”

 

“Shit, really?  Based on how you seduced her away from the man who took her in and spent his life trying to protect her, I was sure sex was involved.”

 

Mystique blushed purple under Cain’s jaundiced gaze.

 

Apparently deciding that he simply didn’t care enough to pursue more information about the relationship, Cain finally announced, “look, Mystique, Charlie and I agreed a long time ago that I would let the two of you sort out any issues without getting in the way. So the rest of this is between me and Magneto.”

 

“What, you want me to sit and be silent?” snarled Mystique, trying to cover her agitation under bluster.

 

Cain shook his head, “McCoy had some questions for you about Charlie’s health. There is a phone set up in the next warehouse over.” Cain gestured sharply to his right, indicating the building’s location. “It’s also empty. He’s expecting your call, and I’d hope that you’d have the decency to actually offer some aid to Charlie after the stunt you pulled.”

 

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea…”Mystique started as Erik simultaneously said, “that sounds fine, go and call McCoy.”

 

Hesitantly, Mystique looked closely at Erik’s grimacing face. “Are you sure Magneto? He might attack again.”

 

“Really? I obviously won’t kill Magneto here- I already had the chance and I think he got the message.”

 

Finally, Mystique nodded and walked confidently out of the warehouse, the door shutting firmly behind her.

 

After a lengthy pause, Erik finally decided to flat out ask, “How is Charles?”

 

Cain looked as though he’s considering not answering, face expressionless and posture tense. Finally he sighed, and offered, “He’s okay. The past few months have been hell, but with Logan’s help, his physical recovery has stabilized at least. Emotionally, Logan is helping too.”

 

Erik could not help but ask, “who is Logan?”

 

“He’s a, well, I guess you could call him a friend,” Erik didn’t think he was imagining the innuendo in Cain’s tone at that answer.

 

Rather than pursue that line of questioning, Erik forced himself to ask, “I thought that his spine was damaged, how did McCoy fix him?”

 

“He wasn’t broken,” snapped Cain immediately, and Erik wondered what exactly was in the brothers’ pasts that produced that level of defensiveness. “And it wasn’t Hank. I brought something to my brother that helped.”

 

“Oh, what could a human soldier produce that a scientific genius like McCoy couldn’t,” Erik asked in disbelief.

 

Smirking, Cain answered, “I actually asked McCoy for what to say to that.  He wanted me to tell you, ‘there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”

 

“Meaning,”

 

Cain merely continued to smirk.

 

“You’re just incredibly helpful,” grumbled Erik. He wondered if Marko had found some mutant or maybe just some miracle cure out in Asia or in the jungles he apparently worked in prior to Charles’s injury. A mutant would make sense, surely there must be some healers out there.

 

Just before Erik could press him on the issue, Cain said, “There is no reason for you to know how Charlie was treated unless you plan to try and reverse it.”

 

“What if someone else gets injured?” Erik wasn’t quite ready to let go of the idea. War had casualties and while he’s confident that he could keep himself safe, the beach showed that Erik could not protect everyone he needs to be able to protect.

 

“No.  Maybe some people could benefit from blood transfusions from other mutants, but the main treatment cannot be used on anyone else.”

 

Erik frowned. Blood transfusions were standard enough and something to look into once he found Brotherhood members with the scientific background to explore the issue. But the original treatment, that was something he could pursue now. “Cannot? Or will not? I can’t imagine that Charles is so selfish that he’d keep a medical treatment to himself.”

 

“Look Magneto, Charlie was saved by something outside science, and it’s not available to anyone else, and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

 

Sensing that Cain’s agitation was increasing, Erik conceded the point, though he made a mental note to ask Azazel for his insights.  Even though Erik had his doubts, Azazel had seen a surprising variety of mystical artifacts in his years, or at least told enough stories to suggest he had such experience.

 

“My turn,” said Cain.  “I don’t agree with him, but Hank thinks we could use your assistance with his brain radar thing.”

 

“Cerebro?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” based on his tone, it was clear that Cain either disliked the contraption, or at least asking Erik for help with it.

 

“And why would I agree to help?” Erik tried to avoid even thinking to himself that helping with Cerebro would give him a chance to see Charles, to work with him again and perhaps assuage some portion of his guilt.

 

Erik had a feeling that if he were even slightly less disciplined, Cain would roll his eyes before responding, “If one of your people were kidnapped, how would you find them?”

 

“I have plenty of skill and experience in tracking people, and if that fails we have Emma.”

 

“Tracking people your way takes time, and Charlie says that your pet’s range isn’t very far, which means that she can’t sense worth shit,” Cain smirked as he translated his brother’s words.  “And Cerebro won’t work for her even if you tried to break in or steal it,” he continued before Erik could even suggest that course of action.

 

“So you’re saying that I’d go to Charles for help?” Erik asked. Hope welled in Erik for a moment at the thought that Charles would still be willing to help him. Then he reminded himself that Charles was far too forgiving, and that potentially being willing to help Erik doesn’t mean anything.

 

Seemingly agitated, Cain paced back and forth as he answered. “I recognize your type.  Charlie is a tool to you.  And even though you threw him away, you’d expect to be able to pick him right back up whenever you wanted.”

 

Erik suppressed the flinch at the accusation, while countering “That’s not true, Charles is my friend.” It’s not true he reassured himself. Charles was his friend, Charles had seen more in Erik than anyone else ever had, seen beyond Erik as Shaw’s monster. Still, a niggling voice in the back of Erik’s mind asked whether he had done the same for Charles. Charles was Erik’s friend, but was Erik Charles’s friend in return? Erik wasn’t sure anymore. Magneto certainly wasn’t Charles’s friend, and he wondered if that role had taken over.

 

“Then explain to me why I had to run an hour through the jungle to radio my contacts in the Army and use up every favor I had and more to get Charlie off a the beach in Cuba.” Cain had paced close enough that Erik could see his muscles flex as his fists clenched.

 

Erik suddenly remembered Mystique saying that Cain was a member of the Army Rangers…and Rangers had been the ones rescued the others from the beach.  “I won’t defend myself, but I had just finally killed Shaw after hunting him for years.  Then dealing with being attacked by two nations- I wasn’t at my best.  But you’re right, we shouldn’t have left him there.  Or the others.”

 

“Then do this for Charles. Hank says that you can place the metal panels more accurately than anyone else, and the more precise, the safer it is for Charlie. You cannot take back what happened in Cuba, but you could at least show you care about Charles being safe.”

 

Erik tried to stop himself, but he had to ask, “So Charles would be willing to help us out in our search for fellow mutants once Cerebro has been improved?”

 

Immediately he knew that was the wrong way to proceed and pressed on, “I thought it was already safe? Did McCoy mess something up?”

 

“No, Hank didn’t make a mistake. I thought Hank mentioned that Charles’s was having some issues with his abilities?” Cain looked pained at the exposure of Charles’s weakness, but continued, “A few weeks ago Charles overloaded the machine and blew out some of the circuits. So Hank needs to replace some panels, and wants your help.”

  
Of course it came back to Cuba, the beach, and the bullet. Erik wondered if he would ever be free from the echoes of that gunshot, even if Charles no longer needed a wheelchair. “What was Charles doing that he blew up Cerebro?”

 

“Charles was looking for people who needed help,” Cain’s long-suffering sigh said more about how Charles was acting than the words. “Because that’s what he does.”

 

The answer allowed Erik to follow up on one of his major questions for the meeting. “Pennsylvania. That was you and Charles.”

 

“Charles, Alex, Sean, McCoy, a few others, yes,” Cain agreed easily. “That was us. You saw the Pennsylvania site.  Medical experimentation on children- Charlie would have burnt out more than just Cerebro if needed to find those kids. Once he caught a whiff of the suffering, he spent hours chasing the source.”

 

Erik carefully hid his frustration. Revealing how much he wanted answers would only give Cain more power, and Erik had too much investigative experience to make that mistake. “People died there. I don’t understand how Charles of all people allowed that to happen,” the tone was neutral even if the words were not.

 

Cain looked confused, “You saw what they were doing. Those people were the aggressors, they knew exactly what they were doing and how people including children were suffering. Charles was never going to let those scientists walk away.  Those of us in the bunkers just made sure he didn’t have to make that choice himself.”

 

“Yourself included?” At this point Erik didn’t doubt that Cain would kill for his brother, but he wanted to know if the man would kill for mutants he didn’t know.          

 

“The ones I killed won’t lose me any sleep,” Cain snarled. “They were preparing to force a poor boy into a tank of water. There were locks at the top, and the kid was screaming.”

 

Erik thought of the destroyed bunkers and felt a visceral satisfaction at the reminder that the scientists responsible were dead. “Why does medical experimentation warrant death, but not attacking us on a beach in Cuba?”

 

“Do you really not know?” Cain sounded genuinely befuddled at the direction the conversation was moving in.

 

“Know what?” A tendril of unease snaked up Erik’s spine. If Charles had personal experience as a lab rat, he would have said something. He wouldn’t hide it.

 

“Well, besides the fact that hundreds of sailors were just on the ships and hadn’t made a choice to attack and that their deaths would have wrecked Charles’s mind, Charles has a rather aggressive response to unethical scientists that is quite a bit stronger than his reaction to direct force.”

 

At that, Erik wanted to go back to a long-ago conversation with Charles and demand an explanation for his reluctance to see Erik kill Shaw. Surely Shaw and his tortuous experiments merited death.

 

Cain continued, his words pushing past Erik’s thoughts, “Did you never ask Charlie anything about his past?  Or did you fall for his smiles, posh accent, and see his big house and assume that you already knew everything?”

 

Uneasily, Erik thought about his comment on seeing the Westchester Mansion. Cain could clearly read the answer in his eyes.  “Did you not wonder why there was a bunker under the mansion?”

 

“Bomb shelter is what Charles said.”

 

“Oh, and how did he explain the labs complete with medical testing equipment advanced enough that McCoy created whatever turned him blue and furry?” Cain pressed.

 

Casting his mind back, Erik realized he had dismissed the facilities as just another indulgence in a rich man’s house, possibly with Hank’s CIA equipment filling out any holes in the supplies.

 

“You know, based on how Charlie has described you, I actually thought you were his friend.  But you don’t know anything about my brother, do you?”

 

“I know plenty,” Erik snarled. He could feel the rebar in the walls flex in response to his anger before he calmed himself again.  “Just because I didn’t push him to detail his past doesn’t mean I don’t know him. I don’t like people pushing me to talk, I just offered him the same courtesy. What did I miss that means I’m don’t know him at all?”

 

Cain hesitated.  “It’s not my place to tell you, but I doubt Charlie will. Maybe you will actually leave him alone if you understand where he is coming from.” Cain paused and looked as though he was unsure how to proceed. Finally he asked, “Charlie ever mention his father?”

 

Charles rarely spoke of his early years, but thinking back Erik recalled a conversation over one of their first chess games. “Yes, he said that his father was the reason he went into the sciences, that he taught him chess when Charles was practically a toddler.”

 

“And it didn’t strike you as odd that a father was teaching a child that young a game like chess? Never mind, I’m sure Charlie didn’t give you a chance to even ask, he’s good at avoiding talking about himself.”

 

Though he wanted to object, after all, Charles never seemed to shut up, Cain’s mournful tone caught Erik off-guard and forced him to review those cherished conversations in a new light. “Yes, Charles is skilled at talking about _things_ , but not himself.”

 

Erik closed his eyes as he tried to recall the details, “He talks about mutations, about politics, about psychology, history, so many subjects, never about himself.  How did I miss that?” The last question Erik directed softly at himself.

 

“Shit, I won’t give you the details, but Brian Xavier and my father Kurt Marko were part of something called the Black Womb Project.” Erik made note of the name as something to investigate as Cain continued, “Charlie may describe his father as a nuclear physicist, but in the end he was far more a biomedical researcher than anything else.” By this point, Cain’s emotional state had him stalking along the wall, pausing occasionally with his fist raised as though preparing to vent his rage against the concrete.

 

“You’re implying that Charles was experimented on by his own father?” Erik felt the creeping horror belied by his flat tone of voice. The tears on Charles’s face at Erik’s bright memory from lighting the candles during his own childhood were perhaps not just tears of empathy.

 

“I’m implying nothing.  Brian at least had morals enough that he didn’t cut up his own son, but I promise you that Kurt had no such reservations,” Cain absent-mindedly ran a finger along his clothed collarbone, “about his own, or anyone else’s sons. More than Brian had access to Charlie until the man died. And then Sharon gave Kurt access to my brother again when she remarried.”

 

“His mother was involved?” Erik could hear the horror break past his control and into his voice at the thought.

 

“Not directly, I don’t think at least. But she didn’t notice or protect him,” grit out Cain.

 

“In all his life, Charlie has had two people who have loved him.  Brian may not have strapped Charlie down, but Charlie has known his entire life that he was an experimental subject to one parent and a burden to the other. Brian died when Charlie was five, and he still mourns the potential rather than reality of that relationship. Sharon never saw him except through the bottom of a bottle. And Kurt, well….” At this Cain finally snapped and punched the wall. Dust trickled from the resultant crater. _Emma said he was human_ Erik reminded himself firmly, _it’s not a show of mutant strength, probably just a weak spot he happened to hit_.

 

“Can you imagine how hard it is for a child to fight back against someone who truly, deeply believes that they are doing the right thing?  Not just being told, but seeing in their mind that you are nothing but an object?  As an adult Charlie can separate his mind from others.  He couldn’t when he was young.  He didn’t know enough to try to defend himself with his abilities, and lacked the will to do so. It was only when he saw me struggle that he even realized it was an option.”

 

“Why test on you though, you’re human, or so I was led to believe.”

 

A sly smirk graced Cain’s lips for a moment before his face cleared and he answered gravely, “Every good scientist keeps a control during any experiment.  How can you tell what’s novel about a mutant if you didn’t try it out on a baseline child first?”

 

“But Kurt died,” stated Erik, fully intending to correct that oversight if Mystique had been wrong about the man’s death.

 

“Yes,” the satisfaction in Cain’s voice said volumes about his relationship with his late father.

 

“Did you kill him?”

 

“Are you suggesting I killed my own father at the tender age of fourteen?” Cain sounds vaguely amused rather than offended, so Erik pressed on.

 

“I was younger than that when I killed my first Nazis.” The ‘ _and I never regretted it’_ goes unspoken.

 

“Fair enough, but no. Kurt was pushing his testing too far, he was close to killing me, and the excitement and stress of the activity triggered an aneurysm in his brain. Charlie had to pull me out of the lab.” That explanation sounded rehearsed, but Cain followed up with a sincere, “Charlie had nightmares for years about pushing Kurt’s corpse off me.”

 

Erik could hear Charles saying “Killing Shaw will not bring you peace,” and for the first time he wondered if Charles was speaking from experience rather than out of an aversion to killing. One look at Cain told Erik that asking about Charles’s involvement in the death would be pointless.

 

Cain didn’t allow Erik to dwell on the unspoken idea, instead asking “Do you understand why I’ve told you all this?”

 

“Not really, I mean I can guess,” Erik admitted, “but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t just to appease my curiosity.” Really, Erik’s curiosity was far from sated. Each revelation sparked a new set of questions, and Erik wanted to call for Azazel to transport him to Westchester so he could demand answers from Charles immediately. He managed to rein in the desire and waited for Cain to continue.

 

“I mentioned before that Charlie has had two people who have loved him.  He wasn’t loved as a _person_ until he was my baby brother.  Raven loved him in her own way, but she only loves part of him.” Erik thought of the helmet and his demands that Charles stay out of his head. Cain must have seen something in his expression, because he added acidly, “yes, his telepathy is in fact part of my brother, so not accepting it means not accepting Charlie.”

 

“Mystique was fine around Charles as long as he didn’t use his ability on her,” but Erik knew it was a lie before it even left his mouth.

 

Cain leaned against the wall, brow furrowed in thought. “Charles said you can sense metal.”

 

“That’s true, a bit simplistic, but true.” Erik wondered darkly just how much information Charles had passed on to his brother, before reminding himself that Cain’s treatment of Erik as a potential threat was not unwarranted.

 

“Okay” demanded Cain, “stop sensing nickel. You can sense all the other metals, but stop sensing nickel.”

 

Erik tried to think of how he would even begin to try, certain that even an attempt would cause a headache, “sensing metal is a passive ability, trying to stop one part of it is both ridiculous and impossible.”

 

Cain’s expression said he was waiting for Erik to understand

 

“But Charles’s telepathy isn’t the same. He goes and pries into minds,” Erik knew he was being unfair to Charles, but it _wasn’t_ the same. It couldn’t be.

 

“That belief is why you need to stay away from Charlie. Figuring out that Raven’s love was conditional broke his heart, and gaining and then losing anyone else will just hurt him more.”

 

Cain frowned at Erik, “You were heading towards a closer relationship with him, and I’m just glad that it was only a friendship that you walked away from. You’ve already left him once when he was at his lowest.  I won’t give you a chance to do it again,” at this assertion, Cain’s face went cold and determined. “I told you about our childhood so you’ll understand why I’m telling you to stay away from my brother.  All you’ll do is hurt him,” Cain’s voiced in an accusing hiss.

 

“And as his power increases, surrounding my brother with people who actually support him is even more important, because if Charlie loses it, the whole world will suffer. I don’t give a shit about that, but Charlie does.” The volume of Cain’s voice increased with his final declaration, “I won’t let him become the monster he is terrified of becoming.”

 

There was really nothing Erik could say to that. For all that he thought he knew Charles, Erik clearly was missing far too much information to make any decisions now. “If you want me to work on Cerebro, I can wear the helmet,” and though it pained him to say it, Erik added, “I won’t have to even see him.”

 

Cain’s laughed derisively. “The helmet? No, you will not bring that helmet into Charlie’s house, let alone when he is already having issues. Charlie said that thing is like a wound in his brain. There are enough bad memories at the mansion. Don’t add more.”

 

“So what do you suggest? If I don’t wear the helmet, Charles will know I’m there.” Part of Erik admitted that he could deal with that. At the very least Charles would be able to sense his sincere regret over the loss of their friendship, even if Erik didn’t get to see him. On the other hand, with Cain’s accusations still echoing in his ears, Erik wouldn’t push for the chance to visit.

 

“Yes, because he senses minds like you sense metal,” Cain reminded him, “but that’s easy. Logan and Charlie will be heading out on the road once Charles is well enough. You can visit when he’s away.”

 

Erik told himself that the idea of Charles going on a recruitment trip with someone else shouldn’t hurt him, and refused to react. “Contact us when you need me then,” he said stiffly as he turned to leave.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write. My first couple attempts just had Cain backhanding Erik into the wall and breaking his neck.  
> And then I got distracted by a Cherik Labyrinth plot-bunny.
> 
> Also, if anyone thinks I should add a tag for Erik's abelist thoughts, please let me know. I'm not certain if it merits a call-out.


End file.
